


Heart of Stone

by linda92595



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fuck Or Die, Genderswitch, Het and Slash, Multi, Pre-Slash, curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/pseuds/linda92595
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating a haunting Dean is also affected by a curse set by the ghost and he  and Castiel must work to break the curse and lay the ghost to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Stone

_April 22, 1883_

_Missionary, Nebraska_

 

_Ida May McGrady lay on the bed in her room, staring out the window. Spring had come early that year, and at ten o’clock in the morning it was already stifling hot. Ida moaned as the pain overtook her again. Reaching down she grasped at her swollen belly, “Please baby, please little baby come now.”_

_In the small room off the side of their bedroom Ida could hear Henry shuffling around, trying to be silent. He appeared at the door, a stark unsmiling figure in dark clothes._

_“Well, has it come yet, woman?”_

_Ida winched at his rough growl, then biting her lip shook her head,  “Maybe you should fetch the doctor.”_

_Henry’s dirty-water brown eyes narrowed, “I told you we ain’t got money for that foolishness. My ma dropped all of us younguns life a cow dropping a calf. You should be able to push this one out.”_

_Ida groaned clutching at her convulsing belly. “Oh God!” She prayed, “Please get it out of me.”_

_Still it was long past noon when the little one finally made her arrival. The baby was small, blue-skinned and not moving when Ida weakly called Henry into the room. He trundled in and took one look at the still-born baby girl. With a growl he grasped the infant in one hand and carried her out of the room._

_Ida called out after him, “Please Henry…I want to hold her just a bit. Please…”_

_“Ain’t no need she’s dead, and I got a grave to dig fore nightfall.”_

_Trembling Ida fell back on the bed. Slowly she dropped her head into her hand, but she was too weak to summon the tears she wanted to shed. In the moments it took Henry to walk down the stairs and out into the garden beneath the bedroom window Ida felt hate shimmer in her heart._

_“God,” she murmured as she watched him drop the rag wrapped bundle onto the hard packed earth, “Curse this house so it’s never a home, and curse this man who can’t feel nothing’ and God curse the woman weak enough to bear for him, and weak willed enough not to change his heart of stone…_

 

April 22, 2009

 

Dean Winchester glared at his younger brother as if he could actually burn a hole into the back of his head if he stared long enough, “Sam…Bobby called and said he came up with a job for us. You can’t just bug off to parts unknown with the skanky slut….I mean Ruby. We still have a mission.”

 

Sam sneered, “No you have a mission …from God, no less, and a smart-assed angel to watch your back. You don’t need me Dean.”

 

Sam paused in his task of sorting his clean laundry from his brother’s long enough to turn around and frown at Dean, “Besides I’m not running off with Ruby. She has a lead on one of the Seals.”

 

“Breakin’ it or saving’ it, Sammy? What the hell is Ruby trying to get you to do?”

 

“We’re trying to do the same thing as you and the angel…”

 

Dean took a step forward, but stopped just short of grabbing his younger brother’s arm, with a snarl he snapped, “Since when are you and the demon bitch a we?”

 

“Since the angels came after you to go after Alistair…since you and him became a we.”

 

“He has a name, Sammy, and you know it. Cas and me are fightin’ the good fight. I wish I could say the same for you.”

 

“Dean, just let it go. You and Cas can go do this job then, if the guy is so important to you. I know what I need to do, and I can get by on my own.”

 

“Maybe we’ll do that…”

 

Dean settled back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as Sam managed to shove all his belongings into the duffle and stomp to the door. The younger Winchester paused hand on the knob and Dean’s breath caught in his chest.

_“Come on, Sammy…turn around. Don’t do this to me,”_ He pled silently, but Sam showed no signs of the psychic abilities that scared the crap out of his brother, or he was ignoring them, and Dean. Then Sam paused eyes squeezed shut. And for one brief minute Dean was sure that Sam had caught his thoughts after all, but his brother shrugged  his shoulders and pushed out the door without looking back.

 

Against his will Dean sagged, his shoulders slumping, then he staggered forward the few steps it took to reach the window. Flicking back the curtains he watched as Sam folded his long legs into the front passenger seat of the dirty yellow Honda idling in the parking lot. Then the car roared into life and disappeared down the street.

 

Closing his eyes against the pain Dean dropped down onto the bed that his younger brother had so recently occupied holding his head in his hands. He waited more or less patiently and in a few minutes a grim smile broke across is face. The sound of wing beats heralded the angel’s arrival.

When Dean looked  up again Castiel was standing beside the window as if he could still see the yellow Honda tearing down the street. For all Dean knew the angel could still see it, or maybe he could sense it . In any case Castiel didn’t move or look back at Dean until the elder Winchester rose from his seat on the bed and moved to stand behind the angel.

 

It wasn’t until the human was pressed right against the angel’s back that Dean thought he might be a little too close to Castiel, but the angel didn’t move or acknowledge his presence for a few minutes. Dean was beginning to grow nervous at the other being’s continued silence when Castiel finally hitched a sigh, and leaned back against Dean pressing his back along the human’s front. Dean shivered, but the warm glow of the other’s body heat felt so good that he closed his eyes for a minute, then reluctantly stepped away.

 

“Can you tell me what Sammy is up to, Cas?”

 

The angel smiled, and even though he hadn’t turned around to look at Dean the human could feel the tug of muscles in his neck, imagine the slow twist of his features and the painfully shy little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

“I don’t need to tell you anything, Dean. You have always been your brother’s keeper. You know as well as I what Sam is doing. I just wish you could make him see that he’s on the path to destruction. You must, before I have to. And if I must call Sam to account for his actions, the results will be far worse than anything that could happen between the two of you.”

 

Raking his fingers through his hair the elder Winchester brother stepped back, grimacing.

“Hell, Cas you know better than anyone he won’t listen to me any more.”

 

And that statement made Dean pause because the angel did know better than anyone else. He knew the situation between the brothers. He knew Sammy’s slow dance with the devil, and he knew Dean top to bottom, inside and out, metaphorically speaking. And that caught him, held him motionless for a moment.

 

“Uhh, Cas…since Sammy took off I could really use your help. This is a two man job, and well, if you don’t have anything else to do.”

 

“I am without an assignment at present, but I could be called away on short notice. However in the mean time I will go with you and assist you any way that I can.”

 

“Great, let me get my gear in the car and we’ll take off.”

 

 

It was always odd to Dean to look across the short expanse of the front seat of the Impala and not see Sammy. Castiel spent most of the first half an hour they drove looking out the window  as if he was trying to take in as much of human life as he possibly could. Dean grunted flicking another tape into the deck and the sounds of Journey filled the car. This seemed to draw the angel’s attention inside, he turned cocking his head his face painted with that lost expression he seemed to adopt so often, “Why do you like this music? There seems to be a pattern to your choices.”

 

“I guess I was just raised on it.”

 

Castiel seemed to think that over for a few moments, “You like the music for the same reason you like the car. They are an important part of your childhood.”

 

“Yeah I guess, they remind me of Dad. This car is pretty much the only home I’ve ever had.”

 

“And you have never longed for any other place, hearth and home, wife and child?”

 

“That’s ain’t for people like me, me and my Dad. I thought Sammy might…but he’s more like Dad than I’d ever believed. Any way I know too much about what’s on the outside to ever be inside like that.”

 

“You have never wondered?” Castiel all but whispered and Dean drew in a sharp breath, blowing it out between his teeth. The angel was flushed almost as if he was embarrassed, “All the long time that I have watched humanity… I’ve watched you crawl out of caves, and into villages. And I’ve watched you gather together into towns and cities. I watched you man ships and travel to new lands, build and destroy, live and die.”

 

Dean nodded, not daring to take his eyes off the road in front of him, the car swung around a curve and he risked a quick glance at his companion. Castiel looked lost in thought, pale and solemn and dark eyed, “I have wondered.”

 

Dean flicked his gaze back to the road all most as if he was afraid to look too closely at the angel, but his eyes wandered to the still face, the unearthly creature at his side and Dean felt something stirring inside him. Swallowing hard he flicked the volume up on the music and tapped his figures restlessly against the steering wheel. If Dean had been hoping to draw the angel’s attention to himself he was disappointed and the moment faded and passed.

 

 

 

They reached the tiny hamlet of Missionary, Nebraska at just past noon. Dean pulled the car into the parking lot of the Motel Six just off the only highway exit near the town. He glanced across the street and spied a Chevron Station, which would come in handy when they left and needed gas, a convenience mart and a McDonalds.

 

“Well, it looks like I get to introduce you to the fine cuisine of Mickey Dee’s,” Dean said shooting the angel a broad grin. Castiel looked at the red and yellow plastic arches and winched.

 

“ I do not need to eat at this time,” he said and Dean was sure the angel looked a little green around the edges.

 

“Come on, Cas…live a little.”

 

With a withering glare Castiel snorted, “I’ve ‘lived’ millennia, and this sort of food is not at all healthy for the human body.”

 

“Oh crap, I would get the tree-hugger angel.” Dean shot his companion another glance then nudged him in the ribs with an elbow, “It’ll do you good to break out and live like a real man.”

 

Castiel shot him an offended glare, “I’m not a man. This body that I inhabit is not me.”

 

“Speaking of which…what about the guy inside you?” Dean snickered making the phrase sound so much dirtier than it was meant.

 

Castiel sighed, “There is no ‘guy’ inside me, I am in him.”

 

“Oh so you top?”

 

“Really Dean these thinly veiled sexual innuendos are unnecessary. I don’t engage in copulation, not as a human would understand it.”

 

Dean pushed the door to the car open but at the angel’s last statement he paused one foot out of the door the other resting beneath the steering wheel, “What? Wait are you saying that angels do the dirty. I thought you didn’t have a body.”

 

“Why would you think that? I merely said that most humans could not look upon my true visage. I have a body in my true form, it’s pure energy. But we have form and shape and are individual unto our selves. Each of us is an entity with personality and identity, shaped by our Father’s hands. Like this vessel has a soul, but when I control this body the vessel is pushed back deep into his subconscious, or else my true form might injure him.”

 

Rising out of the car Dean followed the angel inside the garishly painted building, “And he asked for this? Why?”

 

Castiel shrugged, another wholly human gesture he seemed to be adapting to, “His reasons were his own. I do not wish to break his confidence. Perhaps someday you’ll be able to ask him.”

 

They settled at a table and Dean began sorting food off the tray pushing items in front of Castiel who looked unsettled at the prospect of consuming so much junk food. He frowned as the human unwrapped his first cheeseburger and took a bite. Carefully Castiel sipped at the cup snuffling when the carbonated bubbles hit his nose, then he sneezed. Dean choked out a laugh grinning around the chunk of burger in his month as the angel quickly dropped the cup on the table.

 

“Oh quit being such a tight-ass, Cas. Eat something.”

 

“Jimmy is an excellent cook. He does not approve of this type of food and I don’t want to put it in his body,” Castiel said then noticing  Dean’s raised eyebrows. “Are you going to make some sort of sexual reference out of that statement?”

 

“You know, Cas, for…” Dean looked around before lowering his voice. “For someone who doesn’t sin, you sure seem fixated on sex.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widened and he snorted, another human characteristic he had recently began displaying, “Look who I deal with on an almost daily basis.”

 

“Aww…that hurt Cas, that really hurt.”

 

 

Finally, Dean finished off his first burger as the angel peeled back the wrapper on his sandwich and glared down at it. Taking a deep breath he took a tiny bite. His eyes closed briefly for a second before he began eating in earnest, like he did anything else. Shooting the angel a big shit-eating grin the hunter licked the grease off his fingers then picked up his father’s battered leather journal spilling a few Xeroxed sheets of paper onto the table top.

 

The angel polished off his burger and took another healthy swig of Coke before hiccoughing loudly. Dean snickered.

 

“The house we’re looking at is a few miles out of town. Its for sale, see here’s the realtor’s add. The place pretty much stays on the market all the time. But considering that every couple that has moved into the place for the last ninety to a hundred years has ended up dead, I can see why.”

 

“Always couples?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a little farm house, couple of bedrooms…not much, But I guess they market it as a sort of starter home for newlyweds.”

 

Castiel cocked his head again, that lost look that made Dean’s pants feel too tight spreading across his face, “And we are to be newlyweds?”

 

“Uhhh, no,” Dean sighed. “We are to be hunters that go out to the place and salt and burn some ghostly ass.”

 

“Ghostly ass?” the angel echoed, and Dean felt his stomach clench. He blinked, something about hearing Cas cuss ramped the tightness in his groin up to a whole new level.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing hard, “I think it’s a little more than the standard haunting. Too many couples have died for it not to be some kind of a curse as well.”

 

“Why do you believe that?”

 

“Well, if it was just a standard haunting, then the ghost or ghosts would go after anybody who went into the house, but the single people who bought it survived. The spirits whipped their asses and chased them out but no deaths. The couples all turned up dead about two or so months later. All of them were found in the house with a dead newborn baby too. One couple was found on the porch near the rose garden. Looks like they might have tried to make it out, but died any way. Probably because they didn’t fulfill the conditions needed to break the curse.”

 

Castiel nodded, “We need to find out the conditions to fill the terms of the curse and release the spirits?”

 

“Yep,” Dean sighed, “We’ll go by the regional library and newspapers first see what info we can come up with.”

 

  
After three hours in the library they had collected a huge amount of information. Dean was pacing restlessly beside the table as Castiel poured over the books. He glanced back at the human and Dean shot him a smile.

 

The angel sat hunched over the volumes of bound newspaper clippings. He read and re-read the available information then sat about looking between the lines, as the human expression went. Angels were, by nature, problem solvers. And Castiel was good at deciphering information, his specialty was encryptions and codes, in all human languages and most inhuman ones. And he could see a pattern beginning to form, in the original deaths of Ida and Henry McGrady, and the many other deaths that had followed.

 

After another hour of watching the angel peer at the crumbling clippings and old sepia text of a few letters in the book Dean snapped. He crossed the room quickly and began shoving the volumes into his duffle. Castiel looked startled then panicky.

 

“Dean, these books are reference texts. They’re not to leave the library.”

 

“We’ll bring ‘em back later…Cas, nobody but us has touched these puppies in about seventy years.”

 

“Some of these articles are less than seventy years old so your reasoning is faulty.”

 

“God, you are just like Sam. We’ll bring it back, let’s just go scout out the house.”

 

Castiel held up a hand as Dean tugged him from the chair, “We should research this thoroughly before we go to the site.”

 

 

 

Dean crashed against the wall and went down hard onto his hands and knees. The angel was currently occupied with the spirit of Henry McGrady, circling the ghost looking for an opening to get close enough to lay hands upon him and send him to his final rest.

 

Castiel shot a quick glance at the human, eyebrow cocked, and Dean waved him away. In a flurry of wing beats the angel disappeared after the fleeing spirit. From somewhere in the other room Dean could hear the sounds of violent confrontation and then the muffled noise of fire as the angel burned the spirit and sent it packing.

 

That left him to deal with Ida. He glanced up just as she appeared right beside him spectral fingers working their way into the collar of his jacket. He felt the quick disorientation of being jerked into the air and then the sudden impact of dry plaster against his back. Groaning he slid to the floor.

 

The apparition flickered growing dimmer then brighter as Dean rolled to his knees arms wrapped protectively around his ribs. He groaned again. With a grimace he edged back trying to reach the shot gun lying on the floor. The ghost faded from view then reappeared right beside Dean knocking him over.

 

She stood grim-faced and silent watching him with narrowed eyes. The sudden sound of flapping wings surprised them both and Dean grinned. It was almost amusing. The woman pulled herself together glancing over one shoulder.

 

“It won’t matter. He’s just like Henry, that man. They’re all alike. You’ll find that out, boy. He’s no better than the rest of your kind, but I’m giving you a chance to be better than what you were born. But in the end he’ll prove that he’s no different than my husband. He’ll do to you what Henry did to me, and then you’ll die.”

 

Blinding pain shot through Dean’s body. He collapsed hands fisting the rough fabric of the rug as he writhed in pain on the floor. Crying out Dean’s chest heaved in a breath and the pain exploded. Grasping the shot gun for one brief minute Dean considered ending it all then with a disgusted groan he flung the gun away.

 

The ceiling was pulsing as the room seemed to spin around him and Dean felt like he was being torn out of his own skin. When he could breathe again he found himself staring into the angel’s worried blue eyes. Castiel was staring at him as if he had never seen the human before. That worried Dean a little, he felt raw…open in a way he never had, and although there was no censure in Castiel’s eyes Dean could feel a subtle shift in the way the angel was looking at him.

 

He wanted to rise, wanted to walk out of the house under his own power but Dean knew that was just wishful thinking. The decision was taken from him though when the angel reached out sweeping Dean up. His hands went to the broad shoulders as Castiel rose lifting Dean with far less effort than he should have, and Dean noticed for the first time how small his hand looked resting on Castiel’s trenchcoat-clad shoulder.

 

It wasn’t until they were actually sitting in the car that Dean noticed that his clothes were hanging off him. Tee-shirt wadded around his body jacket swallowing his slender shoulders. Grunting he pulled the rear-view mirror down and around but it was too small for him to see anything but his eyes, brows a bit thinner but eyes still the same shade of green, flecked with gold. Sighing he glanced over at the angel sitting in the driver’s seat, “Cas…” he whispered but his voice was weak, and far too shaky. “Can you drive?“

 

With a grimace that might have been a vain attempt at a smile Castile shrugged, “I’m familiar with the principle but I have had no practical experience.”

 

  The hotel was a haven. The Impala slid to a halt outside the door, and Castiel practically slammed into the side of the building trying to park.

 

 

The angel stood beside the small table next to the bed in Dean’s hotel room. He had found a few additional bits of information in an old volume of bound newspaper clippings that encompassed the past one hundred years. Dean had done most of the preliminary research on the haunting before he and the angel has made it to Missionary, but the angel had actually found the conditions that needed to be met to break the curse. .

 

Castiel used the basic information that the elder Winchester brother had provided and found more information himself after he had left Dean resting at the hotel. Now the angel stood in abject horror at the remaining bits of the puzzle that he had been able to collect. There was only one way to break the curse and Castiel was not sure that Dean was ready to do what was necessary.

 

There was no way around it. The couples who had died in the house had been trying to fulfill the curse, the angel was certain, except they had missed one vital point. There was some minute thing that had not happened and it had cost them their lives. Castiel himself was immune to the curse. But he was not certain that the soul of his vessel would be. And Dean was certainly not immune; he had already been affected by the curse in a very obvious way. Currently the hunter was standing on shaky legs staring at himself in the mirror above the double vanity outside the bathroom door.

 

Castiel had never seen specific differences in human appearance. He understood the basic difference of male and female. But it was the soul that called out to him, it was the soul he sought out first to gauge a person’s worth. The physical was something unfamiliar to the angel, and yet he as of late he had begun to notice some physical characteristics of Dean Winchester.

 

Castiel was sure that Dean’s eyes were the greenest he had ever seen, and he did not understand why it pleased him when said eyes were fixed upon his person. And he knew that Dean was judged beautiful by human standards, by women mostly but men as well. Dean had never discriminated in his choice of partners, and the male form was a pleasing to him as the female form although perhaps less often and less visibly.

 

So the angel stared at Dean staring at himself. The hunter’s frame was small, slender and more fragile in this state. His face that of himself as a child without the broadness of manhood. Slender chin, full lips and a dusting of freckles more visible on the smooth lightly tanned skin.

 

Castiel glanced downward to the clean white tee-shirt the hunter was clad in, the thin cloth doing little to hide the other more obvious changes to Dean’s body. Suddenly the angel felt his cheeks go warm. It was unseemly to notice such things.

 

Suddenly he stepped forward and Dean turned to face Castiel. The angel paused looking down at the slender face and troubled green eyes, and that alone gave him reason to be unsettled. Castiel was used to the male version of the human, used to broad shoulders and having to look up the few inches that Dean was taller than his vessel. This small, delicate creature was so totally foreign to the angel that he could not speak.

 

Dean cringed, “Well, did you figure out what we have to do to break the curse?”

 

“I believe so yes. The terms of the curse are plainly written, figured out by some hunter and disguised as local lore, however, because of the number of deaths I fear that there is some slight detail unknown to anyone that none of the victims have been able to fulfill.”

 

The angel held out a page of text, crumbling yellow paper and pale sepia ink written in a scrawling staggering hand. Quickly Dean took the page squinting to read the intricate writing. Then he gasped.

 

 

With a sob Dean staggered back flinching at the pale sepia ink on the yellowed page. He retched and fled the room, slamming the bathroom door behind him before falling to his knees on the cold tile floor. Faintly Dean could hear the angel’s deep, rough voice muttering a low cadence, praying, in the other room.

 

With a grunt Dean rolled from his knees dropping heavily onto his ass, and slouching against the side of the tub. He looked up at the ceiling. What a fucked up mess this was. He was trapped in this body, half his normal size, less than half if the truth was told and the only way out didn’t bear thinking about. Dean just wanted to curl up in a ball and let the curse work its damage. Death seemed like a mercy compared to what he needed to do…Dean paused listening to the grumbling growl of the other man…no _the man_ in the other room.

 

Finally the noises ceased and Dean leaned forward straining his ears for the sound of a door slamming, but it never came. He could hear the dull thud of the angel’s footfalls on the carpet. Castiel was pacing, something Dean had become aware that he often did when he was thinking, and from the heavy clump of his feet he was doing some hard thinking. Dean fully expected the angel to pick up and leave. Why should he stay, stuck with a useless hunting partner who couldn’t watch his own back let alone the angel’s? A man who didn’t have the common sense to duck a curse thrown by a vicious ghost bitch. A man…Dean grimaced …not a man, not any more.

 

He was distracted by the faint thud of knuckles heavy on the door frame, as if Castiel was afraid that in his anger he would damage the thin wood door by pounding too hard. The door swung inward and Castiel was standing there, looking like a man who desperately wanted to be anywhere but where he found himself.

 

He lingered in the door, and that hesitation broke Dean’s heart. He choked back a sob, then the dam burst and he was bawling whole heartedly with no chance at stopping.

Flushing Castiel took a deep breath then slid into the room quietly dropping to his knees beside the human. The angel’s arms were hard and warm around him and Dean had never realized just how big the angel… the man… seemed now until he was wrapped up and held tight.

 

 

Castiel paced a few steps away from the bed turning to stare at Dean. The younger man sighed watching as the angel gathered his ragged mental resources and came to a decision. Finally Castiel sat down beside Dean making sure to keep a few inches between them, not touching. His smile was weary, tired beyond anything that Dean had ever seen.

 

"We’ll find the real estate agent and rent the house. I have the resources to do that. We'll stay here until the curse is broken."

 

"But, Cas, you saw what it would take. I don't know if I can do that."

 

"We don't have a choice. If you don't meet all the conditions of the curse, you will die."

 

"How?" Dean asked rising unsteadily to his feet. Castiel slumped, shoulders shaking. Finally he scrubbed his hands over his eyes and uttered a long, deep sigh.

 

"We'll find a man, you are pretty and this is a small town. A new girl is bound to draw attention. You do what you have to do and we'll take care of the rest."

 

"I don't want to go out there and hustle some guy…"

 

Castiel sprang to his feet reaching and catching the human by the arm, "What choice do we have? You need to get pregnant…as far as I know there is only one way to do that."

 

"Then you do it, Cas."

 

Castiel froze, "What?"

 

"When we go into town, we’ll tell them that…you're my husband. You’re here to take care of me, right?"

 

"Don't ask me to do this, Dean…please. I can't."

 

Dean took two unsteady steps forward and caught up the angel’s long-fingered hand. He pressed Castiel's hand flat against Dean’s own chest, cupping his fingers around the small swell of his breast.

 

"I need your help, please…Cas."

 

Castiel jerked back as if he had been scalded.

 

 

The angel disappeared after dinner and then reappeared later carrying several bags of clothing. Dean leaned over the edge of the first bag and pulled out jeans and tee-shirts. They looked so small that at first he shot Castiel a glance. Then looked into the second bag it was filled with underclothes, not boxers and tees but panties, silky lacy slips of fabric and bras, soft rounded curves that Dean knew would fit perfectly. He grinned in spite of himself, “So Cas you’re a Victoria’s Secret kinda guy.”

 

The angel looked annoyed then embarrassed, “Are they not sufficient?”

 

Fingering the magenta demi-cup lace bra with diamond accents and matching thong Dean shot the angel a lewd grin, “No…erh…I mean yeah they’re really nice things, but a little racy. Don’t you think?”

 

“I have no experience with these garments, but the women in the magazines you keep hidden in the bottom of your bag wear these things… at least some of the time, when they’re not clad in considerably less.”

 

“You’ve been reading my skin mags?”

 

“I merely was curious as to why you kept them. If you don’t like this clothing dress yourself and we’ll go to the store where I purchased it and you may choose your own.”

 

Dean winced at the hurt sound of the angel’s voice. “Hey…no these are great. You didn’t have to do this, I get it. I’m sorry you know. I just…”

 

“Perhaps you would feel better if you ate something. There is a restaurant across the street from the store. We can go there.”

 

Gathering his clothes in a small bundle Dean went into the bathroom. It took him a few minutes to figure out how to slip into the thong. He flinched digging into the crease of his ass to fish out the flimsy material, and then he sighed knowing full well that most men, his former self included, loved a thong on a woman. Now with the lace scratching his ass Dean felt like an idiot. Glancing at the door he grinned, wondering what the angel would do if he went out there and asked for Castiel’s assistance in getting into the bra.

 

After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to get the damn thing on Dean leaned against the wall huffing out a breath. This was a lot tougher than it looked. Hell, he’d seen women dress before, had a lot of post-coital chatting as some chick pulled on her clothes, but he’d be damned if he could figure out how to do it. Finally, Dean settled on wrapping the bra around his body from behind and fastening the hooks before whipping the fabric around and shoving his arms through the straps. It more or less worked out, if he didn’t worry about the scraped raw spot on his chest from tugging the bras too fast.

 

Fortunately jeans and tee-shirts were pretty much universal and in a few minutes Dean was dressed and ready to go. If he could just work up the courage to walk out the door.

 

In a few minutes he emerged freshly scrubbed and dressed. “You know we need to loosen you up a little.’

 

Castiel cocked his head frowning, but Dean merely stepped forward, “Here take off the coat…”

 

In a few minutes the angel was standing in the middle of the room dressed in only the black trousers and white dress shirt. The tie, jacket and trenchcoat were neatly folded into a pile on the bed. He looked down as Dean’s slim fingers quickly unbuttoned the cuffs of the shirtsleeves and rolled them up to the elbow. “And the final touch…ta…da!”

 

Now Castiel’s gaze flickered from his arms to the mirror, and he saw himself standing in the room, black pants, shirt untucked and flowing loosely, sleeves rolled up and the collar undone. He looked far more human that he had ever believed possible. Then his glance drifted to Dean and he saw them as others would perceive them, a young couple…him, taller, slender and dark haired accompanying a pretty blonde girl a few years younger.

 

By the time they had walked out of the room and across the parking lot Dean had their “cover” worked out. They were Castiel and Deanna Winchester, and the angel was certain that by tomorrow at the latest they would have sufficient, albeit not legitimate, documentation to prove it.

 

After a few minutes of cursing and sliding in the seat Dean finally surrendered and let Castiel pull the seat forward enough for his feet to touch the pedals. Taking a deep breath he put the car into gear and headed out in the direction the angel indicated.

 

Dean sat huddled in the front seat of the car staring at the doors of the restaurant as if they were the gate to Hell. The angel was sitting placidly beside him, not helping, not encouraging merely sitting quietly.

 

Finally summoning the last ragged reserves of strength he had Dean pushed the door to the Impala opened and stepped out onto the pavement. Castiel held the door to the restaurant open for him, not because the angel was inherently polite but because he had seen an older couple enter before them and the man had ushered his wife inside. Dean snickered at the sight of the angel acting gentlemanly and looking so completely lost that it was adorable. That thought brought him up short. Castiel was anything but adorable at his best. Still Dean felt something stirring deep inside and he quickly squelched it down. It must be the new body, new hormones; he did not have warm fuzzy feelings about the damned angel.

 

They made it through dinner without incident, and Dean even let Castiel drive back to the hotel, a move that proved questionable at best. He was a horrendous driver and Dean’s heart nearly gave out twice before they made an unsteady turn into the parking lot. Cursing under his breath the hunter got out casting a sideways look at his companion. The angel smiled obligingly and Dean huffed out a breath. At least they hadn’t gotten pulled over because the cops assumed Castiel was driving under the influence. Even if the angel was a tea-totaller and not a drop of alcohol had passed his lips all night long.

 

Dean wished that he had the courage to get drunk, but for what he intended he needed to be sober. Especially since it would require finessing the angel, and he was sure that he couldn’t do that tipsy.

 

Castiel was pouring over the newspaper clippings and old writings as if his life depended on it. Although Dean knew that the angel did not have anything to fear from the curse. It could not affect him, at least Dean was certain that it could not kill the angel. But Dean would certainly die if they didn’t break the curse. And based on everything that he had seen if they did manage to succeed and actually end the cruse not only would he not die but he would become a man again.

 

There was just one small thing that dug at the back of his mind, that one condition of the curse that no other couple had managed to fulfill. Not that he and Cas were a couple, not that Dean hadn’t been thinking of it lately. And now he couldn’t be sure that he was the one, really the one, thinking about it. Sighing Dean rose from his seat on the bed and wandered into the bathroom for a shower.

 

The angel was still sitting at the table staring off into the middle distance when Dean came out of the bathroom clad only in a tee-shirt. The warm moist air made the fabric cling to his damp skin, and the shirt clung to his new curves, rubbing against his nipples and leaving Dean feeling enervated and wanting.

 

“Cas,” Dean hissed and the angel looked at him, swallowing hard. Apparently the angel was not as immune to temptation as he let on. Now for the difficult part. Sidling up to Castiel Dean raked his fingers though the messy dark hair. Castiel flinched rising from his seat, and taking two uncertain steps backwards.

 

“Perhaps you should reconsider this course of action.”

 

Dean grinned as licentiously as he possibly could and padded forward on tiny bare feet. He felt like a tiger stalking his prey. The angel certainly looked like a scared rabbit.

 

“Don’t you want to save my life? Cas, I need you to help me, please.”

 

When the angel didn’t respond Dean moved forward sliding his hand up Castiel’s arm and wrapping  his palm around the angel’s neck. Castiel moved forward head dipping until Dean could brush his lips against the angel’s. Cas’s mouth was warm, tasting faintly of the Italian food they’d eaten earlier. His lips were dry and he kissed clumsily as if it was not something he’d ever done before, and Dean was sure that it wasn’t. But he was eager and as earnest in this as he was in everything else, so Dean thought that was a good sign.

 

Now for the deal breaker, Dean slid forward taking control of the kiss and pressing his leg between the angel’s thighs. His hip slid into Castiel’s crotch and Dean smiled under the angel’s mouth. Cas was more than ready; Dean could feel the hard length of the angel’s cock under the thick fabric of his trousers. Jackpot!

 

Castiel started briefly when Dean slipped his fingers into the collar of the shirt and began undoing the buttons. Dean leaned back as far as he was able and not break the kiss but kept steadily working on the shirt until he could slip it off the angel’s arms. It fluttered to the floor beneath their feet.

 

Somewhere along the line in his many years of observing humans Castiel had, at least, learned to fine art of toeing off his shoes and socks. So when Dean got his fingers into the waistband of the angel’s trousers there was nothing to keep him from stepping out of them. Dean took one look at the violently blue and purple paisley silk boxers and cracked up laughing.

 

Castiel cocked his head offering the human a shy little grin, “I do not believe laughing at your prospective lover is conductive to the act…”

 

Dean stepped forward wrapping his fingers around the silk covered flesh and Castiel grunted when he tugged.

 

 “Not really worried.” Dean hissed.

 

With a seductive grin which Dean was sure was completely lost on Castiel Dean whipped the tee-shirt off and reached out again. Picking up the angel’s hand he cupped it around the curve of his breast and this time Castiel did not pull away. He stroked his fingers over the swelling flesh and then thumbed the nipple experimentally; a slight grin tugging at his mouth when Dean shivered and groaned.

 

Once the angel was completely divested of his remaining clothing Dean pushed him around until they could fall onto the bed together. He managed to roll on top of Castiel and the angel stroked a hand down the length of Dean’s spine to cup one of his buttocks, then brushed a finger along the cleft of his ass. Dean shivered again, but caught Castiel’s hand pulling it around to the front. The angel brushed his fingers through the fluffy curls of pubic hair then slid his hand between Dean’s legs.

 

He had seen humans copulate enough to understand the basic mechanisms. He knew human anatomy but it was a clinical knowledge without any practical application until so very recently. Still his fingers followed the crease of flesh where Dean’s thigh melded into his hip to the very center of Dean’s body. He dipped inside the silky flesh, pushing the lips away until he could find that tiny button of flesh that he wanted. Dean was happy with his efforts and made a quick startled sound of delight that thrilled the angel to the core of his being.

 

Pleased Castiel pushed Dean over onto his back and began mapping the curves of his body with fingers and tongue. He had tasted Dean’s mouth and found it to be pleasing, now he tasted the rest of his flesh, the curve of shoulder and neck. His lips drifted downward to the pink buds of the nipples and Dean’s sighs and groans became more enthusiastic. The angel slid downward letting his tongue caress the soft rounded curve of belly and the shallow indent of naval.  He licked and kissed his way to Dean’s feet and back up the inside of his thigh until Dean thought he would go crazy. Finally, the angel paused mouth hot over the puffs of curly hair at Dean’s groin.

 

“I want…can I kiss you here?” Castiel asked glancing up at his lover’s face.

 

“Ohh, yeah…”

 

Cas’s tongue was a wild living thing itself, and he pressed his face between Dean’s thighs breathing in short harsh gasps. Dean’s head snapped back against the pillow and he groaned, “Cas! Oh god…yes, yes!”

 

Apparently the angel took Dean’s encouragement seriously. He switched from licking to sucking to pressing his tongue as deeply inside as he could. Then Dean felt the heat swelling in his belly, coiling around his spine and he panted, “Cas put your fingers inside me.”

 

Then Dean grunted as suddenly without warning the angel thrust three fingers up and in. It was too much and yet not enough and Dean wanted it, wanted more. Castiel bent over tongue slipping and sliding and Dean jerked, back arching off the bed. He clamped his thighs around the angel’s head and a fire erupted inside him. The tiny contractions spreading out making Dean cry out.

 

When he could think again Dean looked up. Castiel was sitting on the bed between Dean’s out flung legs face red and sweaty. Dean glanced down and the grinned. The angel was still hard, cock red and leaking.

 

Waving a hand weakly Dean motioned him forward, “Get on your knees and elbows above me, here between my legs.”

 

Castiel crawled forward licking his lips and Dean felt his stomach clench. He maneuvered the angel into position then moaned when Cas pressed against tender flesh. There was a moment of shy confusion before the angel finally sank down. His cock pressed against the entrance to Dean’s body then slipped inside. Castiel’s eyes rolled up and he bit his lip, then instinct seemed to take over and he was thrusting in a steady rhythm.

 

It took less than a minute and then the angel’s back arched and he gasped, burying his face in the curve of Dean’s neck and shoulder. His breath hissed out in one long sigh and Dean felt Castiel’s cock throbbing inside him, and he was flooded with wet heat.

 

Afterwards the angel went completely boneless, crashing down onto Dean’s chest. The human grunted as his breath was pressed out of his body. Wriggling he pushed against Castiel’s shoulder until the angel rolled up and over falling onto the bed beside him.

 

After a few moments of silence Castiel turned glancing down at the human’s upturned face. He flushed, “I realize that I have no experience to draw on so I do not know if the act was…satisfactory… for you.”

 

“You did just fine, Cas.”

 

 

They lay side by side for a few moments then Dean shifted onto his side body going lax with sleep. Although Castiel himself did not sleep he found that his vessel functioned better if he allowed the body to rest regularly. So he shifted until he was spooned behind Dean one arm draped loosely around his waist. Gently he lay his hand flat against Dean’s belly then his eyes snapped opened wide. There was a tiny buzz of energy beneath his palm. Castiel smiled, it was done. The child was conceived.

 

Then he frowned. The angel was not sure that Dean fully understood all the terms and conditions for fulfilling the curse. He needed to discuss this with Dean, make sure that the human fully understood that the child they had conceived this night would not be theirs, would not grow up. The terms of the curse were clear, just as Ida’s child had been born dead this child would be still-born as well.

 

 

The realtor was a short middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. In fact, she looked enough like the angel that she could have passed as his mother. He didn’t seem aware of that fact, but Dean found it interesting.

 

They were riding in the agent’s car with her over to the house. Cas sitting in the front seat not making small talk and Dean in the back staring at the angel. Castiel looked different, and remarkably human, dressed in Dean’s jeans and a tee-shirt. The only thing out of place was the black wing-tip shoes instead of sneakers, but Cas’s feet, or the vessel’s feet more precisely, were much smaller than Dean’s.

 

Frieda turned in the seat as far as the steering wheel would allow and cast a quick glance at Dean, “So how long have you two been married?”

 

Dean flinched, “Not long. Cas and I are just looking for a little place to get started in.”

 

“Oh then this is the perfect place.” She smiled over at Cas, and Dean felt an irrational stab of jealously. “You can move in as soon as we get the paper work finished, if you like the house. It’s fully furnished, even linens and dishes.”

 

Cas nodded, “We will keep that in mind, won’t we Deanna.”

 

Looking the house over was just a formality. Of course Dean made sure to make the appropriate gushing noises. Cas just looked blandly confused, which Dean supposed might translate to boredom, but Frieda kept her game face on and in the end when Cas pronounced the house acceptable she beamed at he and Dean both.

 

Back at the real estate office Frieda looked a little off when Castiel produced the first and last month’s rent in cash, but she quickly wrote out a receipt and handed it to him.

 

 

Dean unlocked the door to the house as Castiel brought the bags inside. They had gone straight from the real estate office to the hotel and picked up their belongings. Then Dean has insisted on going to the grocery store and picking up food. So he went back to the Impala and opened the trunk while the angel dropped the duffels on the floor in the living room.

 

Between the two of them they got the bags of groceries inside the kitchen quickly, and Dean sat about teaching Castiel the fine art of sandwich making. Then they sat on the porch with thick roast beef sandwiches and bottles of soda eating quietly as the sun sank behind the low foothills across the meadow in back of the house.

 

After dinner Dean salted the window sills as the angel drew protection sigils above the windows and doors throughout the house. The place was cool and quiet and as night settled they lit candles, Dean making a quick note to himself to get the electricity turned on the next day. Castiel sat at a chair in the dining room with the newspaper clippings and old letters scattered out in front of him. Dean sat a cup of coffee beside the angel’s elbow and settled into a chair on the opposite side of the table.

 

“Anything else yet?”

 

Castiel sighed taking a sip of the coffee, “I have been able to make some deductions based on eye witness accounts and some diary records of several of the women who died in the house.  The reason that the couples were here for only two months was that the pregnancies advanced at a much faster rate than the normal human gestation period…”

 

Dean blinked unsettled by how much like Sam the angel sounded, but he nodded turning his attention to the documents Castiel pushed across the table at him.

 

“So how long are we looking at here?” he asked and Castiel shrugged.

 

“Nine weeks more or less. Each pregnancy is individual, Dean. But it seems as if all these lasted two months. So we will not be able to go into public areas after your pregnancy shows, it will be suspicious as to why you are advancing at so fast a pace. But until that time we should be able to be seen without drawing too much attention. We will make some excuse as to why you do not come into town.”

 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Dean snorted. He yawned. “I think I’m gonna hit the sack. You coming?”

 

Castiel carefully lifted the candle off the table and following Dean upstairs.

 

 

His shoulders ground into the mattress again, and Dean moaned. His knees were up over Castiel’s shoulders legs crossed behind the angel’s back and heels digging into his shoulder blades. Dean thought he could feel, although not see, the thick sweep of wings behind Castiel’s bare back.

 

He grunted as Castiel eagerly butted his head against Dean’s belly tongue working furiously at the tender flesh at the very center of the human’s body. Dean was still thrumming with his last orgasm and was well on the way to another, but although this was good, fantastic even, it wasn’t what he wanted.

 

“Cas,” he managed to gasp out. Castiel hummed and Dean bit his lip throwing his head back against the mattress again, the pillows long gone into the floor. “Gah…Oh holy crap, Cas…stop I can’t take it any more. Not that this ain’t great. I mean I admire your dedication and really love the enthusiasm, dude. But…I don’t know what they taught you in Angel school. But you can’t make babies with spit.”

 

“I…we don’t need to be concerned with that any longer,” Castiel hissed easing Dean’s s legs off his shoulders and crawling the length of his body so that he lay between Dean’s legs. “The child is conceived. Last night, it was done.”

 

“What? You should have told me.”

 

Castiel paused cocking his head that confused expression Dean was so familiar with spread across the angel’s features, “This is purely for our gratification, unless…perhaps I read your intentions wrong. You do not want this?”

 

Dean grabbed his shoulder squeezing tightly and Castiel smiled. “No, I mean yeah,” Dean said returning the grin, “You read me just right. I want this. I’ve wanted this for a long damn time now. Even before…you know…this.”

 

With a nod the angel rose up and sheathed himself in Dean in one long gliding motion. His eyes dropped closed and he hissed out a breath. Dean shuddered. It didn’t last long and that was disappointing for Dean, but he had to admit it was only Cas’s second time. They’d work on Castiel’s stamina. But he didn’t seem to mind. Dean held the angel as he shuddered through his orgasm, then dropped onto his lover’s chest with a sigh.

 

 

Dean woke the next morning to the sounds of movement down the stairs. He groaned and rolled out of bed. Rushing through a quick shower he was grateful for the fact that he didn’t need to shave and hurriedly pulled on his clothes.

 

Castiel was in the kitchen and Dean could smell coffee brewing in the pot. He looked to make sure that Cas wasn’t cooking but then noticed the takeout bags on the table. The angel looked back over his shoulder at Dean but the human was sure that he had been aware of Dean’s presence long before acknowledging it.

 

“I went to the bakery in town and brought back pastries. I have noticed that you liked to eat them with Sam, occasionally.”

 

Frowning at the mention of his brother’s name Dean strolled to the coffee pot and poured out two mugs bringing them back to the table. Castiel joined him sitting down opposite the hunter and Dean pushed the combined texts and papers on the case to the side. The angel followed the movement with half-closed eyes.

 

“Look there’s some old nursery furniture in the second bedroom. I thought that we could bring the cradle into the master bedroom just for a while. Until we get things figured out.”

 

Castiel frowned, “There is no figuring out Dean. The child is not ours to keep…”

 

“Sure it is. I mean, we might not be the most traditional parents.”

 

“Dean,” Castiel said sharply, “We are not parents at all. This child is not a product of our love and commitment as in a human family. It is the product of a curse.”

 

“God!” Dean hissed, “You really are a heartless bastard, aren’t you?” 

 

Pacing a few steps away he whirled then his hand came up and he slapped the angel as hard as he could. The sound snapped through the kitchen and Castiel flinched, not from pain but from shock. He stood rooted to the spot a blank uncomprehending stare on his face. Dean winced as he felt tears rising unbidden in his eyes.

 

“How can you say that?”

 

“It is the truth. I do not believe that you understand the terms of the curse. Perhaps if you read the text it would clarify matters. In any account, we could not keep this child. It is forbidden for an angel and a human to procreate. My Father has…”

 

“I don’t need to read any damned books, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear about your Father or anything he says, Cas. This is between you and me.”

 

“I may be expressing myself badly. I simply think that you do not understand.”

 

 

Two weeks passed without noticeable change. They kept to themselves and researched every bit of information they could on the curse. After breakfast the two headed into town. Dean was still seething inside, and objectively he realized that the mood swings were just the results of hormones. Still he had been on a slow burn for the past two weeks, and he felt too hyper to sit in the house all day. Castiel seemed not to have any preference doing whatever Dean wanted with no complaints. At least the angel’s driving skills had improved Dean decided as Castiel maneuvered the Impala into a parking space along Main Street, and the small line of shops and restaurants that made up the downtown area of Missionary.

 

After lunch they wandered the streets looking into windows but not saying much. The angel appeared lost in thought much of the time, and Dean was still pissed off at him. Still he paused when they approached the car, turning to look at the window of a shop.

 

The display in the large plate glass window was of baby clothes. In the center of the display was a white cradle all most identical to the one Dean had found at the house and inside was a doll, a remarkably lifelike doll of a tiny baby girl her blond curls swept up in a large yellow bow. She was dressed in a bright canary dress with puffy sleeves and white lace. It was beautiful and perfectly matched the soft lamb’s wool blanket draped over the side of the cradle. Dean smiled.

 

“Hey, Cas. Look at this. It’s really pretty, don’t you think. It would perfect for the baby.”

 

Castiel shot Dean a sideways glance, a frown crossing his face, “Dean you must stop this.

There is no need to buy these kinds of things. If you had read all the literature I found about this curse you would understand that the child growing inside you has no soul. Our circumstance must mirror that of Henry and Ida McGrady identically.”

 

“So, that still doesn’t mean…”

 

“Yes, Dean, it does. Just as their child was still-born this one will be also.”

 

Dean jerked back as if Castiel had slapped him. Eyes wide he whirled stumbling briefly before grabbing the keys out of the angel’s hand and storming off to the car. Castiel watched in quiet detachment as the Impala lurched forward bumping the curb before Dean managed to adjust the seat then roared away. He stood on the sidewalk unaware and unconcerned by the stares he was getting before turning back to the window. Narrowing his eyes the angel glared at the display and the clothing inside.

 

 

 

The house was still and quiet when Castiel appeared in the stairwell. He glanced up the staircase cocking his head. He really didn’t need to listen for sounds he could sense where Dean was perfectly well without it. And Dean was laying on the bed, the bed they had shared the past couple of weeks, and one that the angel was not sure he was welcome to any longer. With a sigh he slowly climbed the steps.

 

Dean had his back to the door but he heard the thud of footfalls in the stairwell and knew that Castiel had just arrived by Air Angel. He wasn’t sure what Castiel was going to say, hell Dean wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He had been wrong to leave Cas on the sidewalk. The angel was just acting according to his nature. It was not in him to lie. Even if the truth was ugly. Dean just wished the angel had learned the fine art of prevarication in his time on Earth.

 

He could hear footfalls, now. In the hallway and then in the room. Cas was not trying to be quiet as if he knew that Dean was not asleep. But he did not come to the bed right away either, first he padded into the bathroom. Dean could hear one of the cabinets opening and then closing. Then water ran in the sink. Finally, after a long time the angel approached the bed.

 

Dean rolled over. There were no tears on his face, and Dean honestly could not remember crying, if he had. There was no tear streaked face or soaking wet pillows. Just a dull misery that surrounded him like a cloud of smoke, burning his eyes and mouth, making him breath in short, shallow gasps.

 

Castiel sat down on the side of the bed he customarily slept. With a contrite expression he shoved a glass of water at Dean.

 

“Would you like something to drink?”

 

“You suck as a caregiver.” Dean huffed, but he took the glass anyway. Taking a sip he glared at the angel. Castiel nodded, eyes going to half-mast.

 

“Not my purview. I am a hammer, remember.”

 

Now Dean flinched, “Yeah…about that. I’m sorry I know that’s not true.”

 

Now the angel cocked his head, “It’s truer than I wanted to believe. I just thought that it best you know the truth.”

 

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down’?”

 

“I have not, but I understand the concept. I should have been kinder.”

 

“Yeah, you should have, but I get it now.” Dean said shifting into a seated position. Carefully he put the half empty glass on the night table. “So we do everything that Henry and Ida did. How does that break the curse?”

 

“It doesn’t. We can’t do everything like Henry and Ida did. We must find that one thing that they never achieved, that all the others never achieved and do it to break the curse.”

 

“This is really starting to feel like a death sentence.”

 

Castiel frowned, “You must not think that way Dean. We must find out how to break the curse and we have seven more weeks to do it.”

 

 

 

By the end of the month Dean could no longer wear the clothes that Castiel had bought for him. He had resorted to wearing sweat pants or the two old pairs of draw string gym shorts he had found stuffed in the bottom of his bag and his old tee-shirts. They still hung off his shoulders like a sack, but they also mostly covered his swollen belly. Standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom Dean decided that he looked like he had basketball stuffed under his shirt.

 

Dean could no longer go into town. Not that there was anything even remotely resembling a night life in good old Missionary. But Castiel was good about running  errands, even when said errands involved weird foods that Dean was craving. He brought in groceries or bags of takeout depending on what Dean sent him for, and spent most of the nights pouring over every available scrap of information they had collected trying to find out that one elusive thing they needed to do to break this curse.

 

They were still sleeping in the same bed, but sex was a thing of the past. Dean couldn’t stand the thought of anyone touching him looking the way he did. And when Castiel had tried to initiate Dean just wanted to crawl away and sleep. He had pushed the angel down on the bed and jerked him off quickly, but Cas was extremely uncomfortable with one-sided sex and there had been no repeat performance.

 

They had reached an uneasy truce and Dean felt time spinning out of control. He felt the end looming up on him and this time it didn’t look like the angel was going to be able to pull a miracle out of his little bag of tricks.

 

 

 

The final day of the curse broke bright and clear. It was sweltering hot by mid-morning and Dean was really pissed off that he had never gotten around to getting the electricity turned on. Not that there was air conditioning in the house anyway. The windows were flung open and the angel was on a step ladder clearing spider webs out of the corners. A task he had been more or less engaged in since Dean had thrown back the curtains and proclaimed the house unfit to live in.

 

By noon Castiel was acting strange, or at least stranger than usual and Dean felt like something was going on. It was while they were eating an early lunch, soup at the angel’s insistence, that the first stirrings of pain hit Dean. He bent over grasping the edge of the table with a grunt eyes going wide.

 

“Your time comes,” Castiel pronounced gravely and Dean wanted to smack him.

 

“Uhhh, Cas remember that whole telling the truth with a spoonful of sugar kinda thing. You picked a fine time not to follow through.”

 

“I will prepare the room for the birth; just wait here I will not be long.”

 

A short time later the angel appeared in the kitchen door and ushered Dean upstairs. He was panting, the pains were not that close together but he was beginning to get a good idea what he was in for and it scared the crap out of him.

 

Cas helped him strip to the waist pulling the too long tee-shirt down to the mid-thigh to preserve what little modesty Dean had left. He didn’t really see the necessity since the angel had seen, touched and had his tongue on everything he was trying to cover. But Dean didn’t complain.

 

 

Moaning Dean grasped the sheets in his fingers clawing at the material. Castiel was at the foot of the bed pressing his warm hand on each of Dean's bare knees. He looked calm, almost serene and Dean hated him for it.

 

"How can you stand there looking at me like that, when I'm dying?" Dean hissed kicking out his foot, smiling when it connected solidly with the angel's forearm. Castiel grunted but didn't move.

 

"This is going to hurt a little. I need to feel inside to see how far you're dilated."  His face was still, but Castiel refused to look up at Dean's face. That pissed off the human even more.

 

"Look at me; you didn't mind looking me in the face when you were sticking it in me. When you did this to me. Just because you've got your fingers up my cunt and not your…"

 

"That's enough Dean. I did what I did because you asked me too."

 

Castiel sighed rinsing his hands in the wash basin. Quietly he studied Dean's angry flushed face, and grimace. Dean had been in labor for three hours and he was only half way there. If the abuse was starting already Castiel had no hope of getting through this thing without a nasty fight. And he'd bitten his tongue just about as much as he could.

 

By mid-afternoon the pace had picked up considerably and Dean was nauseous with the pain. The contractions were coming quickly now, one on top of the other and he couldn’t find any respite from the agony that twisted his gut.

 

“Oh God, please…Cas do something.”

 

The angel was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, gently he reached between Dean’s spread knees and the human cringed in pain. Smiling gently Castiel sat up, “It’s time. Do you wish to sit up or continue as you are now?”

 

Dean groaned but struggled upright pulling his knees up to his chest. Suddenly the overwhelming urge to bear down caught him and Dean hissed out a breath pushing for all he was worth.

 

“That is good, Dean. Bear down again.”

 

The angel’s gruff voice urging him onward Dean pushed again and again until finally he felt movement. Eyes widening he gasped, “Cas, its coming.”

 

“Yes, I see the top of the head. One more push and the infant will come.”

 

Castiel’s hands were sure, the touch on his leg calming and Dean relaxed taking a deep breath then pushing for all he was worth. The pain was incredible and he uttered a half-strangled shriek and then there was nothing but an incredible lightness. Castiel’s face was calm, but even still his amazement shown through. He smiled holding the baby up.

 

“She is here, Dean.”

 

Eagerly Dean leaned forward carefully taking the small, pale skinned baby girl into his arms. She was small, but Dean had read that first babies almost always were smaller. Her rounded cheeks and tiny bow of a mouth were all Winchester if Dean could remember anything about Sammy at all. And he thought he remembered just enough. He wanted to know what color her eyes were, but they were closed and he didn’t have the heart to open them. This way, cradled in his arms, she almost looked as if she was asleep. But Dean could feel the small, still, weight of her and knew she would never draw breath.

 

Castiel stood back not intruding, but something in his stance made Dean turn. She was his child as well. Dean motioned the angel over passing him the baby. Castiel reacted as if Dean has handed him an atom bomb.

 

“I have never…” he stuttered, then looked down at the tiny form in his arms, captivated.

 

Suddenly the angel walked away from the bed. Dean sat up crying out, “Cas…wait. I want to see her for a little longer.”

 

“I merely wish to bathe her. I will return her to you in a short time.”

 

 

When Castiel brought the baby back to Dean his eyes widened. She was washed and dressed in the yellow outfit Dean had seen in the store window in town. The yellow lamb’s wool blanket was wrapped uncertainly around her tiny body, and Castiel looked slightly embarrassed by his efforts. But the smile that broke across Dean’s face reassured him, and he sat down offering the baby to Dean again.

 

“Hold her and I’ll bathe you and bring you clean clothes.”

 

 

Dean sat back while Castiel washed the blood off his legs and removed the soiled linen from the bed. By the time he was finished the bleeding had stopped and Dean was able to slip into clean dry sweats.

 

The sun was hanging just above the low foothills across the meadow behind the house when he looked up again. Castiel was standing by the window looking out at the rose garden below.

 

“Dean, we must bury her. I believe we should do so in the garden among the roses.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Are you ready to go down?”

 

Looking down at the tiny baby in his arms Dean sighed, eyes dropping closed. Nothing was going to change this, so he shook his head. Instead of helping him up Castiel just swept him up into his arms and carried Dean and the baby down the stairs. He settled Dean into the rocking chair on the porch and stepped back.

 

“I need to go bring a shovel back. Will you be okay here for just a few minutes?”

 

“Yeah sure.”

 

 

Dean kept his attention on the tiny blanket wrapped bundle in his arms, and not on the angel quietly digging a grave just a few feet away. When Castiel was done he quietly propped the shovel on the side of the house and walked back to the chair. He stood patiently while Dean rocked the chair, clutching the baby to his chest. Finally, Dean looked up.

 

“Are you ready now?”

 

The angel leaned back against the porch rail crossing his arms over his chest. “When you are ready. I don’t want to rush you. We have time.”

 

“Okay…”

 

Suddenly Dean grunted as pain shot down his arms, His hands trembled and he cast a quick glance at the angel, “Hey, take her, Cas.”

 

Castiel scooped the baby up holding her gently against his chest carefully wrapping the blanket around her tiny body. He frowned at Dean as the human heaved in the chair. Dean groaned as fire swept down his body liquefying his bones. He grunted wrapping his arms around his body and shivering.

 

With a gasp Dean looked up. He smoothed his hands down his chest, feeling the hard edge of muscle where there had been soft rounded flesh. His stomach was flat and tight, and he reached between his legs flushing when he realized that Castiel was watching with a slightly confused expression on his face.

 

Dean felt his cheeks go warm, “Uhhh I just wanted to be sure. You know.”

 

 

The grave was a small a bare place in the lush green garden and Dean felt a dull, hollow pain in his chest. He watched as Castiel stepped forward kneeling down. Dean didn’t join in the prayer but he bowed his head in respect, and when Cas rose he quickly broke off one of the bare branches of the rose bush next to the grave. Carefully he dipped the end of the branch into the dry soil and when he stood back Dean could see a the branch had taken root and was bearing tiny yellow buds. He smiled.

 

Castiel smiled at him, “She will rest easy here, Dean.”

 

 

 

They stood on the porch side by side until a cold wind swept over them and Dean jerked around. Castiel turned slowly, and they both stared at the pale figure standing in front of them.

 

She flickered once then grew brighter. Ida stared at the two men lifting the small bundle in her arms. She smiled at them, “All I wanted was a little kindness and understanding. That’s all anyone ever wants.”

 

Castiel smiled at her gently, “Go with God, sister.”

 

Ida sighed, the wind rushing over Dean and leaving him shivering. She nodded stepping back and a pale yellow light wrapped itself around her slender form. She looked up as if seeing something, and then the light grew brighter and she faded away leaving only the diffuse glow of the pale late-afternoon sun behind.

 

 

 

They stood in the driveway of the little house, Dean and the angel. Castiel watched as Dean packed his belongings into the trunk of the car. When he was done Dean closed the trunk lid and leaned against the side of the car. Castiel walked over to stand beside him, turning back to the house.

 

“You said once you wondered,” Dean said quietly and the angle cocked his head. “You know about having a home, wife and child. Was it like you expected?”

 

“I did not know what to expect, and this was different circumstance. I feared for your life if we could not break the curse. But I can see the attraction.”

 

Dean turned a frown brushing his face, drawing his lips down, “You liked it though…being with a wife?”

 

Castiel reached out but stopped himself from touching Dean’s arm. “I liked being with you, Dean.”

 

Dean looked down at the angel’s outstretched hand, and then he slid his fingers around Castiel’s. The angel looked down twining his fingers through Dean’s. They stood side by side for a few moments, and then Castiel loosened his hand and stepped back.

 

Dean closed his eyes. “I guess I’ll call Sammy. See if I can meet up with him.”

 

“Ah, yes. He will want to join you.”

 

“Are you going anywhere else right now?”

 

The angel shook his head, “I have not been given further orders yet.”

 

“So ,em, you want to ride along with me?”

 

Castiel smiled turning toward the car, “Yes, Dean, I will go with you.”

 

 

Dean slid into the car glancing across the seat at the angel. Castiel settled down, pulling the seatbelt across his chest. The engine roared into life and Dean put the car in gear. He leaned forward to turn on the radio but Castiel caught him by the wrist, slipping his fingers around Dean’s.  Dean settled back in the seat looking out the windshield at the setting sun. The quiet night sounds drifted in from outside and Dean drove one handed his other hand wrapped in Castiel’s warm fingers.

 

The End


End file.
